


Repair the Past; Conquer the Future

by loveandallthat



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:50:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7789135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandallthat/pseuds/loveandallthat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bitty starts to worry that he could end up as the next Kent Parson in Jack's life.  Jack proves him wrong, opening himself up to the possibility of repairing his relationship with Kent--and starting something new between all three of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repair the Past; Conquer the Future

Things are really going great for Jack and Eric.  At least, for them together, as a unit.  Staying in the closet is putting a lot more pressure on Jack than he expected;e’s always been closeted, really, but he’s never had a relationship like this.  Eric has been closeted as well, though he seems to be handling it better.

After several awkward, stilted Skype conversations that leave Bitty wondering if he did something wrong, Jack finally admits his thoughts to him over Skype one night.  

“I never really thought of it like that,” Eric replies.  “But, honey, I’m still more out than you are.  And less in the spotlight.”

Jack knows that’s true, but it still feels wrong.  “You’re still famous,” he insists, and Eric blushes hard.

“Don’t you flatter me; I’m serious!  Besides, you’re worth it.”

Jack smiles, his eyes going wide.  “You are, too.”

Eric’s heart flutters.  Even after all this time, it’s somehow still a surprise every time Jack says something romantic.  It’s amazing, after all he’s been through, that his words can feel like this: so sincere and heavy and wonderful.  It almost makes it hard to speak, but Eric soldiers on.  “So we can take it a day at a time, darlin’, and tell people when it’s right for us.”

Even through the screen, Jack’s eyes are incredible and piercing when he looks up close enough to the camera that it’s like he’s looking at Eric.  “Sure, Bits,” he agrees.  The tension around his shoulders has lessened some.  Eric hopes that they can stay like this.

“Now then,” Jack starts, still grinning, “tell me about your practice yesterday.”

\---

Bitty’s decision to visit Jack the night after he has a game against the Aces is totally, definitely a coincidence.  He just also happens to have a great break in his schedule at that time, since he only has one early class, a paper due, and an exam in French on Monday.

It’s possible he doesn’t mention any of these things to Jack when he says it’s a good weekend for him to visit.

Just--his imagination gets the better of him.  It’ll be the first time Jack’s seen Kent since the clusterfuck of an EpiKegster, and maybe Bitty is being overprotective or jealous, but it’s too late anyway.  His ticket is booked, and he’ll get there the Friday before Jack’s Saturday game, so they’ll have time to hang out in between Jack’s practices and his need to eat and sleep well.

Thinking like that, he’s actually looking forward to it.  He has a seat next to the friends and family of some of the other team members, and knows how to lie about his relationship with Jack, and it really doesn’t bother him.  Or, if it does, it’s more anger at the state of the world than at Jack specifically.  It’s not like Jack _wants_ to keep him a secret; he’s just in a position that makes it necessary, so if Bitty is going to be mad at anybody, it certainly won’t be Jack.

He knows this, has known it going into the relationship, but something about it solidifies on his bus ride.  Knowing Jack will pick him up close to the stop is exciting; it almost makes him feel like he’s holding one over on every other passenger.   _I’m going to be picked up by a celebrity whom I’m dating._  It’s obviously not why Bitty started seeing Jack, but every once in a while it’s fun.

Bitty gets lost in these thoughts for half the trip before he realizes he hasn’t turned on his music yet, and that’s weird.

It does make the time go quickly, and before he knows it he’s a block away from the bus stop, looking for Jack’s car which, he realizes, they didn’t actually discuss.  But a nice, non-ostentatious silver car pulls up, and Bitty thinks he shouldn’t be surprised that Jack isn’t inclined to drive ridiculous sports cars, even though he knows that Kent is, or was.

Jack rolls down his window and Bitty is relieved to see it’s him, then Jack pops the trunk for his bag.  His skin tingling, Eric throws his bag haphazardly and slams the trunk a bit too loud, then jumps into the passenger seat.

“Wow,” Jack chirps, in response to the noise, “How hard have Ransom and Holster been working you at the gym?”

Bitty laughs.  “Still not as much as you,” he teases.

Then it catches up to both of them, and they turn to stare at each other, transfixed.  Jack looks gorgeous, Bitty thinks, but of course he does.  He’s wearing what is probably the tightest shirt he owns, and Bitty wonders whether he did that on purpose, if Jack knew how much Bitty would appreciate that.  Jack’s eyes roam over Bitty’s form and hopefully he’s liking what he’s seeing as well.  Their eyes are restless as they take each other in.

Jack finally breaks the tension.  “Hi.”

Bitty’s face almost hurts from the force of his smile.  “Hi.”  He leans in to kiss Jack, and is relieved when it’s reciprocated, even though they’re still in semi-public.  It feels like it’s been forever.

“I _was_ going to take you to dinner,” Jack starts, pulling away slightly, “but if you’re trying to convince me to go home instead . . .”

“Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy!  You kept talking about how there really were good restaurants here, and I want proof.”

They kiss once more before Jack puts the car back in gear and heads out of the parking lot, his hand landing on Bitty’s knee and making his heart race for the whole ride.  Will he ever truly get used to this?

The restaurant they go to is dark, romantically lit, and might be too obvious if not for the extreme heteronormativity involved with sports, and the world in general.  Bitty had dressed down intentionally, feeling silly as he did it, and with Jack’s style marginally updated from his time on the team, they could have been out for a business dinner.

As long as nobody paid a lot of attention to their facial expressions, anyway.

“How’s your French coming?”

“Why, Mr. Zimmermann, is that a come-on?”

Jack laughs, which is a success in Bitty’s book.  “Later,” he promises.

That’s . . . well, promising.

It’s been so long that Bitty has almost forgotten that they’re not just close friends anymore.  Sure, their conversations aren’t exactly platonic, but they’ve always been something questionable anyway.  Thinking back, Bitty can imagine his entire sophomore year as a courtship between himself and Jack, even if he wasn’t aware of it at the time.  Even if Jack hadn’t known what they were doing.  Every time they were excited to see each other, the times at the coffeeshop, getting frozen yogurt, every occasion that can now be seen as a date.  The personal details they shared with each other, away from the ears of the rest of the team, it all seems to make so much more sense now.

It’s almost too good to be true, and then it _is_ too good to be true.

Because Kent Parson walks into the very same restaurant as them.

Bitty is facing the door, so he sees him right away.  He’s with two people who look enough like him to probably be his parents, which is interesting.  They’re led to a table between the door and Jack and Bitty’s table.  Right away, Bitty knows he’s staring too hard, going to make Jack wonder what he’s looking at.  He’ll either have to lie, which would be bad, or tell the truth, which would be terrible.

Jack doesn’t ask though, just turns around, goes stiff when he sees what Bitty saw.  He turns back around slowly and looks at Bitty like he’s asking what they should do.  They’ve already ordered, not that they were about to make a run for it anyway.

“Maybe he won’t notice us?” Bitty suggests tentatively.  He doesn’t ask if those are Kent’s parents, but he figures Jack would know.  “You’re not _that_ recognizable from the back--I mean, I would recognize you!” he adds, as if worried that Jack is insulted by the thought.  Then it occurs to him that if he would recognize Jack, it’s just as likely that Kent will.  He tries to quell the jealousy.

Jack just stops him with a simple, “thanks.”  He looks somewhat calmer just from having been watching Bitty, which makes his heart flutter, a little.

But neither of them really anticipate Kent being good enough with faces to recognize Bitty, which is exactly what happens.  He excuses himself from his dining partners, looking casual and collected.  He stands up and Bitty sees that he’s wearing a crisp blue button-down shirt and black jeans.  He looks really good.  There’s no way that Jack won’t notice.

It’s possible that Kent Parson is the type of guy who sees someone he met at a party one time out to dinner with another guy and still comes over to say hi, but it seems more likely that he has assumed that Jack is the aforementioned dining partner.  

Easy as pie, Kent puts his hand on the back of Jack’s chair, then ignores him and leans forward.  “Bitty, right?” he asks, and Eric wants to be unimpressed but he can’t help it; it’s pretty noteworthy that he remembered.

“Hello again,” Bitty’s mouth greets without his brain’s express permission.  “Nice to see you.”  He looks at Jack, trying to convey a subtle apology for his deeply ingrained manners.  Jack doesn’t seem angry, exactly, but he’s hunched forward and tilted sideways, like he can’t stand the thought of his shoulder meeting with Kent’s fingers.

“Hey, Zimms,” Kent adds, when the silence has stretched on for a while.  He still has a wide, charming grin on his face, which Bitty wonders if he practices.

Jack finally turns and looks at him, has to look up since he’s standing so close.  He seems strangely fazed by whole situation, nervous in an unexpected way.  Bitty’s heard an abridged version of their history, but after the EpiKegster, it’s a surprise that Jack looks more embarrassed than he does angry.

“Parse,” he returns, and the nickname sounds weird coming from his mouth; both Bitty and Kent notice it.

“I’m surprised to see you out the day before a game,” Kent continues anyway, like he hasn’t noticed.  Bitty knows it’s only because he’s visiting Jack that they’re out; Jack generally follows a good routine to be ready before game day, even when they have to travel.  He’s told Bitty all about it, willingly opening himself up to the chirps he knew would come from it.

Now the memory seems bittersweet, somehow, just because Kent is also familiar with the same side of Jack.

Jack’s arms are folded.  “I think I’ll be fine.”

Something about Kent’s cheerful disposition clicks into place, seems more natural.  “Oh, I know.  I wasn’t worried about that.  Just an observation.”

 _Sure it was_ , Bitty thinks.

“Yeah, well nobody asked, so you can keep that to yourself.”  Jack sounds young suddenly, like they might have acted like this years ago.  Kent’s smile fades.  The air is suddenly tense, and Bitty wants to take out his phone, ignore this conversation, not be part of this.  It’s the same feeling of being shut down that Bitty remembers from after he scored his first goal while Bad Bob was there.

Which means Jack is upset and lashing out, obviously, but Bitty had kind of thought that would be less common, now.  Maybe Kent just brings out the worst in him.

“Sure,” Kent agrees, seeming natural and calm even to Bitty, who is actively looking for cracks in his mask.  “Just thought I’d say hi.”

“Sure,” Jack echos.  Bitty looks back and forth between the two of them as they stare each other down, then eventually Jack relents, looks back at Bitty, and Kent leaves.  

Bitty has a weird feeling in his stomach for the rest of the night, and nothing that Jack does snaps him out of it.

\---

There isn’t that much time before Jack has to be with his team, but the fact that it can all be spent at Jack’s apartment, baking and watching Saturday television, making out, and just being close, means that it’s pretty damn good in Bitty’s book.

And Jack is _on_ today, asking him questions about what he’s been up to, paying him attention, showering him with affection.  He still waits for a commercial break, even though they hadn’t been focused on the show, and then crowds Bitty up against the arm of the couch.  Of course Bitty’s pleased--it makes his heart race--he loves it when Jack takes the initiative, loves being reminded that Jack’s as into him as he is into Jack.

He puts his hands on Jack’s neck but soon is running them over his back and locking his arms at Jack’s shoulders, bringing his legs around his thighs.  Bitty keeps thinking about athletic superstitions and pre-game abstinence, and sure enough, Jack stops them after a few minutes.  Bitty manages to only barely complain.

He knew it’d be like this, especially the first time that he was with Jack before a game, before the two of them fall into place and find a rhythm.  Jack can’t eat anything Bitty baked, so they cook too; every move they make includes consideration for the fact that the game is coming quickly.

It’s fine, though--it’s what he signed up for, and Bitty wouldn’t trade it for anything.

\---

They run into Kent again before the Aces vs. Falconers game.

It’s so fucking typical.  There should be no reason for their paths to cross in a random stadium hallway, but Bitty and Jack just were looking for a place to say goodbye before they went their separate ways.  And of course Kent Parson just hangs out in whatever abandoned hallway he can find, clutching his phone to his chest and staring off into space.

The most awkward thing is that this time it’s their fault; they interrupted Kent and have much less right to be angry.  Jack still looks it, though.

“Hey Zimms, Bitty,” Kent says when he looks up and sees them.  He seems to be good at hiding his surprise, if he felt any at all.

And it’s weird.  Oh, is it weird.  They’re going to be on the ice together in what seems like no time at all, would have had to stare each other down at some point anyway, but it’s happening here of all places.

“You look like shit,” Jack accuses, and Bitty startles.  Jack looks pretty surprised at himself, too.

“Charming as ever,” Kent mutters.  He runs his hands through his hair, which adds to his slightly unkempt appearance, but it doesn’t distract from the bags under his eyes.

“Seriously,” Jack insists, taking a step forward and then stopping, like he’s suddenly remembered that they don’t do that anymore.  “Pull yourself together,” he orders, and Bitty winces.  It’s not that he can’t handle Jack’s captain voice, but . . . to be fair, he does have a lot of bad memories associated with it.

But Kent responds better to it, running a hand over his face and giving a simple, “yeah,” of agreement.

“Let’s play at our best,” Jack adds, softer.

Kent snorts.  He’s suddenly exuding a confidence that wasn’t there before.  “Worried about me, Zimms?  No need.  We’re going to wipe the floor with you.”

\---

They do.

\---

Jack scores two goals, and Kent scores three.  Bitty watches them play, astonished that they’re the same people he was seeing not too long ago in a dark hallway, angry and full of flaws.  They’re both on their game, Kent fast and tricky, Jack impenetrable.  It’s an amazing game, even if Bitty is understandably dissatisfied with the outcome.

After, Kent tries to talk to Jack, but he brushes him off and shuts him down, saying something so harsh that Kent stops cold and doesn’t follow him anymore.  Bitty doesn’t hear it, but he can imagine, can remember a time when he was on the receiving end of that.  He wonders if Kent deserves it; Jack’s stories about their past have always been lacking in details.

That night, they finally sleep together in Jack’s bed.  He’s so kind, attentive, tender, that it’s like he’s forgotten about everything that happened that day.  Bitty almost forgets too, unable to think for how often Jack is kissing him deeply and holding him close.

But he does remember, and the next day, their last day together, it’s on his mind.  He thinks about it for the whole walking tour of Providence (maintaining a “plausible deniability” distance away from each other at all times), through breakfast at Jack’s apartment and lunch at an upscale cafe.  It’s still on his mind when they get back, should start saying their leisurely goodbyes before Jack drives Bitty back to the bus stop.

And so of course it comes out, no matter how hard he tries to hold it in.

“What did you say to Kent after the game?” he blurts.  Then he covers his mouth, wishing he could put the words back.

Jack’s eyebrows furrow, and his eyes bore into Bitty’s.  Bitty waits, crossing his arms.  It occurs to him to tap his foot, but he knows that would be melodramatic.

“Nothing, really,” Jack evades, finally.

“OK,” Bitty acquiesces for half a second, and then, “It’s just, it looked like you were angry.  Both of you.”

“Why would he have been angry?  He won.” Jack kind of spits.

Bitty raises his eyebrows, trying to communicate, _see?_ without words.  Jack clearly gets the hint.

“I don’t want to talk about this.”  Jack’s expression closes off completely.

Normally he wouldn’t, but Bitty insists today.  “I’m sorry.”  He really is.  “I’m sorry, but it’s like the way you used to treat me, and I’m worried--”

“Bits,” Jack breathes, leaning in and putting his hands gently on either side of Bitty’s face.  “I wouldn’t.  Not to _you_.  That’s just--for me and Kent, that’s normal.  I told you, we have a lot of problems.”

He may say that he wouldn’t, but the truth is that he already has, could start again.  Maybe Bitty was just catastrophizing, but he could imagine just as easily that there was a happy part of Jack and Parse’s relationship before they became what they were.  Bitty wasn’t planning to break up with Jack, but if he did, it was unthinkable that it might turn out like this.  So he said nothing, and Jack must have read his hesitation on his face, because he leaned in to kiss him soft and sweet, the way he had that first time.

They left to go to the car, with a mutual unspoken agreement to leave the argument where it was for the sake of their goodbye, their continued long distance relationship.

But of course, the seed is planted in Bitty’s head.

\---

Bitty tells his parents that he can’t come home until the Wednesday before Thanksgiving break, and spends the beginning of it at Jack’s apartment.

It’s nice, and Bitty can imagine a life with Jack.  He wants to say so, but it feels so soon, even though Jack has invited him here, always acts very pleased when Bitty makes himself at home, cooks, and hangs out in Jack’s bed while he’s gone.  So, maybe he’s wrong.

Maybe he’s still wrong when Jack says they should make or buy something good to eat that Tuesday night, because someone else is eating with them, don’t worry, it’s fine, he can know.

Maybe he’s confused as fuck when it’s Kent Parson.

Confused as to why Kent would come in the first place, why he didn’t mention his feelings toward Jack having invited him in the first place, why all of these situations and decisions (and possibly his own comments) have led them to this place.  And now they’re here, and Kent has wine even though he must know Jack doesn’t usually drink much, and it’s all an absolute farce because OK, technically they’re adults, but not _this_ kind of adults.

Which probably explains why they’re all standing around like they have no idea how to handle this situation.  Then Bitty realizes he knows exactly how to handle this situation, ushers Kent in and into a chair before he can protest, and starts offering drinks.  Jack looks at him bemusedly for a second, before shaking it off and just looking fond.  Or maybe Bitty is projecting.

Either way, Jack isn’t actually saying much, and it’s left to Bitty to make conversation with Kent, something that he isn’t necessarily excited to do, even though his words months ago could have been taken as standing up for Kent.

Bringing up the Aces’ season and successes around Jack is probably bad, too, so he keeps a lid on that discussion.  “What brings you to this area?” he finally settles on instead.

Kent is leaning back in his chair like he’s perfectly comfortable here, but his eyes are flickering around, taking in the room.  Bitty doesn’t think he’s had a reason to be here before.  

“Visiting my parents,” Kent explains, like Bitty can’t realize that wouldn’t exactly make him _close_.  It must have still been quite a trip.

“Oh, how are they?” Jack asks, and Bitty and Kent both jump, which is embarrassing.  Bitty goes read and looks away so quickly that he almost misses the look Jack is shooting him, like he’s hoping for Bitty’s approval.  He has it.

“Good, good,” Kent answers, “They asked about you.”  Bitty feels it like a punch, even though it was meant for Jack.  He knows that the two of them still have a lot of trouble, knows that it’s not all Jack’s fault or all Kent’s fault--especially since Jack explicitly told him that.  But sometimes it’s easy to attribute it to Kent, like now.

Like it was easy to attribute it to Jack the last time.

“I still would have picked up if they had called me,” Jack claims.  It’s a little nasty; Bitty remembers his previous fears, the subtle hints in their relationship that they were one bad turn away from Jack talking to him like this.  The captain voice when Bitty refuses to study, “come on, Bittle,” echoes in his brain, transforms into his command to Kent to, “pull yourself together.”

Bitty anxiously stands up.  The food is ready, anyway.

Eating is a good excuse not to talk, and they all take the out.  Kent breaks this only to tell Bitty that the food was delicious, because Kent Parson apparently does understand the rules of being a houseguest.  He also tries to get up and help clean, and Bitty tries to keep disliking him.

“I saw your last game,” Jack announces, a non-sequitur.

Kent chuckles anyway.  “Oh yeah?  Close one.”

Bitty saw that game too; everyone in the Haus watched it together.  Kent had scored the winning goal in the last minute of overtime.  He had danced circles around bringing it up, but of course Jack did it anyway.

“You just barely pulled it off,” Jack agrees.  Kent smirks at that, like he knows it’s a shot at him, but doesn’t mind.

“Dessert!” Bitty interrupts, trying to break the tension, hopefully cutting it and the apple pie at the same time.

Kent looks him square in the eye.  “Did you make a pie just for this?”

“Um,” Bitty hesitates, “It wasn’t a lot of work . . . I make pies for much less?”  He feels judged all of a sudden.

“Shit, no, I just meant that I was honored,” Kent rushed to correct.  It made Bitty like him enough that he didn’t want to mention that he didn’t know who was coming.

“You’re welcome,” is what he says finally, which isn’t actually a logical response, but nobody comments.  Kent gets really distracted by the pie, which is flattering.  Jack is more used to it, but he still doesn’t really say anything while he’s eating, and Bitty doesn’t exactly know how to fill the silence.

It turns out he doesn’t need to; maybe Kent is just as sensitive to the tension, or maybe he’s telling the truth when he says, “This was fun, but I have somewhere I need to be, so . . .” trailing off awkwardly and looking back and forth between Bitty and Jack.

“I’ll show you out,” Bitty offers.  He knows he shouldn’t; it’ll look weird to everyone involved and it isn’t his house to show people out of, but he suddenly needs to talk to Kent alone.  Jack gives him a confused look as he remains seated and awkwardly waves a goodbye to Kent, who is being ushered out by Bitty.

“If you’re hoping to yell at me in private,” Kent starts as soon as they’re out of hearing distance.

“No!” Bitty exclaims, then feels awkward at his enthusiasm.  “No,” he repeats, quieter, “I just can’t believe you even came when Jack invited you.”

“I was just surprised he invited me, but I guess I know why.”  Kent’s staring at Bitty, who doesn’t get it at first, and then understands all at once.  It’s true that he’s been bringing up Kent with Jack every once in a while, worried about their relationship ending up like Jack and Kent, so this must have been some kind of demonstration of functional exes.  Not the best performance, honestly.

“I did _not_ think that this is what he would do!”  Bitty runs a hand over his face.

“Knew it,” Kent mutters, before Bitty continues.

“He’s just trying to . . .” Bitty trails off when he realizes how bad it’ll sound if he tells the truth.

“Prove he can be nice to his exes?” Kent guesses.  It’s a surprise, honestly, firstly that he’s so on the nose, but also that he is even willing to bring it up.  “I’m sure you’ll be fine; you and Zimms are nothing like me and Zimms.”

Bitty just kind of openly stares.  Who says things like that?  Why isn’t he angrier about this?

“It’s fine,” Kent assures him, reminding Bitty all at once of Nursey’s forced chill.  It isn’t fine, and Bitty knows this more than anyone.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.  Not that you have to make me feel any better!” Bitty adds suddenly, realizing how it sounded.  Maybe he’s had too much to drink.  “We’re not that different, anyway, Jack was pretty hard on me when we first met, like . . .”

“Like he is with me now?  Yeah, he was always a little like that with me.  Even when . . . anyway he never would have done this shit for me, so just believe me when I say you’re different.”

And Jack is much happier right now.  Of course Bitty is glad about that, but he really worries about the strength of their relationship if that doesn’t last.  Kent and Jack couldn’t last through the draft and Jack’s overdose; what about Jack and Bitty is so powerful that they could handle strife or turmoil?

It’s simultaneously nice to hear and not reassuring at all.  “I was really mad at you after the EpiKegster,” Bitty announces, realizing that “EpiKegster” is not a universally understood term, but deciding not to further explain.

Kent winces, then his expression smooths quickly.  “That wasn’t my best moment, but that’s just us.”

It’s a front; Bitty’s sure of it.  He’s been there, and he knows the feeling of wanting a good relationship with Jack.  He can recognize the signs.  

They stop outside by Kent’s car, and Bitty is suddenly overtaken by emotion about the whole situation.  “If you’ll keep showing up, I’ll keep inviting you,” he promises.

Kent shakes his head, but says, “Fine.  I think you’re crazy, but whatever.  I’m obviously not going to not show up if I have the chance.”

It’s more honest than Bitty was expecting, the confirmation that he isn’t over Jack.  Bitty should be jealous, maybe, or wanting to keep him away.  And there is a part of him feeling that, but it’s outweighed by how convinced he is that this will be better for Jack, if he can feel better about his past.

And yes, Bitty wants to ensure the strength of his relationship with Jack.  Of course he does.

“Lord, there are so many ways this could go wrong,” Bitty mumbles, watching Kent drive away.

\---

The next time there’s even a chance to invite Kent to anything is when Jack’s having some of his old team and some of his new team over, and Bitty thinks that just wouldn’t be smart.

Except Jack invites him to the housewarming anyway.

If this is the karmic proof that Bitty shouldn’t have even brought it up, OK, he gets it.  Thanks, universe, your lesson has been learned.

Because Bitty planned the party, it goes pretty smoothly food-wise.  There are enough guests that Jack’s usually sparse apartment is downright crowded, which seemed impossible.  However, it’s good for not letting any one segment of Jack’s life dominate the scene.

Well, the Samwell Men’s Hockey team is doing a pretty good job of it, but there are enough actual NFL players and their girlfriends to break that up.

Of course Kent shows up.  There was never any doubt in Bitty’s mind from the moment that Jack had told him that he was invited.  How would Kent have said no to an invitation directly from Jack, anyway?

It occurs to Bitty, not at all for the first time, how likely it is that Kent is still interested in Jack.  How weird that makes it that Bitty wants him around, that Jack tolerates it.  How not-weird it is that Kent wants to be around them if he intends to break them up, but how strange it would be if he were just torturing himself showing up.

Then again, what does he really know about Kent Parson?

Sure, last time they’d talked it seemed like they had reached an understanding, but that doesn’t mean that they actually _know_ each other in any serious way.

As if he’s trying to pass some kind of test, Kent is the model house guest.  It could be the pressure of Jack’s current team and his old team in the same place, friends and family, athletes and non-athletes.  Everything seems so easy to Bitty as he blends in with the rest of the Samwell team, pretending that’s the only reason he’s there, wearing a Samwell Men’s Hockey hoodie to directly advertise that he is there as a friend from school.  It’s imperfect, but Kent’s non-action is probably for the same reason, to keep all of them in their relative, respective closets.

Knowing this about Kent is weird, especially as everyone else looks at him as a celebrity and Jack’s friend from the juniors.  Bitty wonders how much weirder the whole scenario will look if he starts talking to Kent, or if Jack does, or if they all end up near each other.  Will their entire situation be written all over their faces?

Almost certainly not.  Even if some of the undertones were sensed by those who were paying a lot of attention, there’s no way anybody could guess at the weird intricacies of whatever was going on with the three of them.  Even Bitty has no real clue.

Which is why he only very slightly panics when Kent starts walking up to him, and it’s mostly fear of the awkwardness of their next words.

“Great party,” he says to Bitty, “but I’m going to bounce.”

Bounce, who says that, Bitty thinks, and then, “You don’t have to!” he assures, even though Kent didn’t imply that he felt unwelcome.  He realizes as he’s saying it that maybe Kent actually does have to go, that he is a person with a life outside of all of this.

Kent just looks at him, up and down, and says, “Walk me out again?”

It’s loud enough that a few people hear, know that Bitty has walked Kent out of Jack’s apartment.  Even though it’s nothing suspicious, he still twitches before he nods and starts walking, Kent following unusually quietly.

Once they’re outside, they seem to stop to talk out of a mutual agreement, confirming Bitty’s worries about having an awkward discussion with Kent tonight.

“Hey, uh, did you tell Jack to invite me tonight?” Kent asks, and Bitty wants to sigh.  Of course it seems like that.  

He tries to put sincerity into his voice.  “No.   _Really_.  Maybe he thought I would want him to, but I didn’t even know you’d be here.”

Kent frowns at that.  

“And I really did want you to come, too,” Bitty confesses.  It knocks the displeased expression right off Kent’s face, replacing it smoothly with unconcealed shock.

“What?  Why?”

There’s no nice way to phrase this.  “I like the idea that romance with Jack doesn’t always have to end badly?  I’m sorry!  That sounds terrible.”

But Kent is laughing.  “I don’t know if I’d say it didn’t end terribly,” he argues, when he’s finished.

Bitty doesn’t know all the details, so he can neither confirm nor deny that claim.  Something about his face might tip Kent off to this fact, because he leans in conspiratorially to whisper at Bitty, as if there’s anyone else around to overhear them.

“How much do you know?”

It feels like a weird betrayal of Jack’s trust to even tell Kent how much he knows; maybe they’ll be judged for their relationship being honest enough that he’s gotten a lot of details or maybe Kent will know that he’s missing huge chunks of it and think that they’re not as close as they seem.

“I know he didn’t talk to you after . . . the draft, and that he wasn’t very nice to you when you came to him with the Cup, and you weren’t great at the EpiKegster,” Bitty hedges.

“That’s it?” Kent asks, seeming honestly shocked.  Of course Bitty guessed wrong about how much to share.

“Basically.”

Kent narrows his eyes, but doesn’t call him on it, which is nice of him.  “I’m not trying to play the victim here, because I know it sucked for Jack, but it was pretty shitty for me, too.  And now he’s fine and good and I’m . . .”

“Captain of a Stanley Cup winning hockey team?” Bitty fills in, before realizing he might be being insensitive.

“Still in love with him,” Kent pushes on anyway, like he’s been dying to say that to someone.  Bitty suddenly feels confident enough to stare right into his eyes, wide and impassioned by his confession.  They’re nice eyes.

“I, um, figured,” Bitty admits.  And he did, although the confirmation of the fact--and his knowledge of it--somehow makes this whole thing much more complicated.

“And you still want me here, even though I’m a damaged jerk in love with your boyfriend?”

The question lands on Bitty differently than how it was intended, though, because suddenly he’s thinking from Kent’s point of view instead of his own.  It makes it seem like a dick move to want Kent around, to want to make him feel like this.

So he speaks up.  “You still want to be around?”

“Maybe I’m a masochist,” Kent jokes, or hopefully jokes, because if so Bitty does not want to know that.  Bitty laughs awkwardly.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a good time,” Bitty offers, but Kent’s shaking his head the moment he starts the apology.

“It was fine,” he insists.  “Plenty of fun people there.”

“Yeah,” Bitty agrees, because it’s true.  “Look,” he starts awkwardly, when Kent starts to walk away.  “Just--here.”  And he gives him his phone number, written down old-school style on a sticky note.  It’s obvious that he brought it out with the specific intention of giving it to Kent.

Kent looks from Bitty’s eyes to his outstretched hand with the number in it.  Eventually he raises his hand to grab it, muttering a quiet thanks before he leaves.

Bitty waits ten more minutes before he goes inside.

\---

Jack corners him after the party, while they’re still cleaning up.  Bitty kind of wants to finish, feels uncomfortable with the mess around them and not up for any kind of serious talk, but Jack is insistent, and they sit at the table.  Like adults, Bitty thinks, even though they are and that should be expected.

Bitty’s phone vibrates and he turns the screen on to see a message from an unknown number, simply stating _hey it’s kent._

He turns the screen right back off.

“You were talking to Kent for a long time,” Jack says.  His tone isn’t accusatory; his voice is soft, even for Jack, and his expression is calm.  Bitty almost feels guilty for having anticipated anything other than that.

“I actually waited outside for a while after he left,” Bitty corrects him.  “I needed the air.”

Still, though, Jack’s right.  He did talk to Kent for a long time, and to anyone at the party, it would have looked like it had been even longer.  Maybe, to a group of people who don’t know Bitty and Jack are together, it seems normal enough that Bitty and Kent have a lot to say to each other; maybe people know that they met for the first time at a kegster at Samwell; maybe it seems normal to everyone for people who are friends with Jack to be friends with Kent, too.  But still, they were trying so hard to stay under the radar, and Bitty broke away and did something out of line.

“Oh.”  Jack sighs, and his shoulders relax a little.

“Were you worried about something?” Bitty asks.  He’s not trying to put Jack on the spot; he’s honestly curious--Bitty is definitely not trying to make waves.

But Jack goes unexpectedly red and is unable to meet Bitty’s eyes.

Now Bitty is not one to push, not at all, but this is also an un-Jack response to a situation.

Jack inhales slowly.  “What--what did you talk about?”

Bitty is suddenly the one with a reason to be nervous.  Sure, Jack has proven that, to a degree, he suspects why Bitty has been on his case about Kent, but they haven’t talked about it.

He isn’t going to lie to Jack, though.  It’s hard to get the words out; his palms are sweating, and he knows he stutters.  “Well, um, we talked about why I want him around sometimes, and why he keeps saying yes, and whether or not you know why?  And why you’re going along with it?”

Asking it as a question does not make it easier.

Jack leans back into the couch and runs his hands down his face.  “I don’t want you to think I’m a jerk because of . . .  my past.”

“I don’t,” Bitty protests.

It makes Jack smile a little.  “I know.”

Bitty waits; it seems like Jack has more to add to that, so he bites his lip to keep from interrupting.

Miraculously, Jack continues.  “I think . . . I used that as an excuse because I wanted him around.”

Hearing this, Bitty stops breathing.  “Because you want to make amends?” he suggests.  It can’t feel good to have such a bad relationship with someone who was (or is) so important in his life.

“Yes,” Jack starts, but Bitty is apparently having terrible word vomit, because he finds himself rudely interrupting without planning on it.

“Or do you still have feelings for him?”

He expects Jack to be shocked or get mad, is already imagining himself sleeping on the couch or having to go home early.

“Um,” Jack says, and looks away.

 _That’s_ interesting.

“You’re not over him,” Bitty breathes.

“That doesn’t mean I still have feelings for him,” Jack argues.  He looks as nervous as Bitty feels; he’s fidgeting and can’t seem to find a comfortable position to sit.

“Doesn’t it?” Bitty wonders.  He doesn’t want to put Jack on the spot, but they have been dancing around this conversation for weeks now.

“I don’t know,” Jack admits.  He leans forward to put his face in his hands.  Bitty just looks at him in astonishment.  For a second, he has an almost out of body experience, imagines this situation from the perspective of people who don’t know Jack.  An amazing legacy NHL player who overcame a scandal, sliding down a slippery slope into another one involving a younger former classmate and last year’s leading scorer in the NHL, his old best friend with new bad blood.  Bitty feels so weird being a part of it.

He pulls Jack’s hands away from his face, gently enough that Jack could prevent it if he wanted to, though he doesn’t.  They look at each other, and Jack must see the lack of anger in Bitty’s eyes.

“If you want to be with him--” Bitty starts.

“No,” Jack interrupts, “I want to be with you.”

Bitty smiles at that.  “But there’s still _something_ with Kent.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.  This is what I want, me and you.”

Bitty’s heart skips a beat as it does every time Jack says something like this.  He isn’t used to it in the slightest, doesn’t know how anyone can be used to it.  If what Jack says about his relationship with Kent is true, Bitty might be the first person to get this side of Jack.

“You never treated Kent how you treat me,” Bitty says, and the questioning tone he intended gets lost in translation, “but did you want to?”

“No,” Jack answers softly, “I just--now I wish I had.”

Their eyes are still on each other, sitting close and not touching anywhere.  Bitty takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh that Jack probably feels on his face.  He asks a question that he thinks maybe Jack doesn’t hear very often.

“Jack?  What do you want?”

Jack tenses, confirming Bitty’s suspicions.  “I want to keep dating you.  Um, forever.”  Jack goes incredibly red, but keeps going after his eyes search Bitty’s face for a while.  “And I want things to be better between me and Kent.  Nothing left unsaid or undone.”

“Maybe you can have that?” Bitty offers.

Shrugging, Jack takes Bitty’s hand.  It seems much more formal than the situation calls for.  “What do _you_ want?”

That’s an easy question.  “I want the same thing for you.”

“And for you?” Jack asks, and Bitty feels a sudden certainty in their relationship.  They’re looking out for each other.

“Maybe I want things to be better between me and Kent too,” Bitty teases, making Jack blush.  Oh.  “Why don’t we take him to dinner, or invite him over again?”

“You really want that?”

“I’ll text him.”  Bitty doesn’t explain how he has his number, and Jack doesn’t ask.

\---

Kent agrees to come over, surprising nobody.

It’s nerve-wracking that they decided to do this in private, like they’re going to be talking about things that need to be kept secret.  Except, isn’t that exactly the case?

Bitty keeps thinking of jokes to break the tension, and then thinking better of them.  There are so many ways for them to land wrong with this audience.  The problem is that he has no idea what to do, and there’s no way for him to break this mood,Kent probably won’t do it, and Jack definitely won’t.

Except that he does.  He walks over to Kent, much closer than anyone normally would be to another person, though Kent doesn’t back off or even lean away.  He puts his hand on his shoulder and Bitty imagines Kent flinching but it doesn’t happen; they lock eyes so hard that Bitty feels like a third wheel until Jack breaks the eye contact just enough to smile at him.  It’s enough to break the spell on Kent and he looks completely nonplussed, but not as floored as he does when Jack returns his gaze to Kent’s face and says, “I’m sorry.”

The physical contact, the proximity, the situation adds so much weight to his words that Bitty’s surprised that Kent doesn’t collapse under it.  He doesn’t ask what for, or argue, just shoots back, “Me too.”

While Bitty’s thinking it’s going to be just that easy, Jack uses his hold on Kent to sit him on the couch, dropping down next to him, and waiting for Bity to take the third space.  Staring at Jack’s back where he’s turned to face Kent adds to the outsider feeling; Jack’s hand reaching back to clasp his takes it completely away.

“I was jealous of you, and I thought being away from you would be better for me, and I was selfish,” Jack continues, and Bitty swears he hears Kent’s breathing stutter at that.

When he’s composed himself, Kent shakes his head.  “I was the selfish one.  You needed to be away from me and I kept bothering you.”

“So,” Bitty starts, awkwardly, “Maybe it’s time for a change now that you’ve both . . . um, changed?”

“But Jack found new friends and got better and I just--”

“Just got a captaincy and won a Stanley Cup?” Jack asks.

“I just never got over anything from back then.”

Jack looks down at his hand in his lap, the one not holding onto Bitty, and keeps his eyes on it while he raises it to the side of Kent’s face.  Bitty squeezes his other hand to let him know it’s OK, even while Kent looks wide-eyed and panicked.

“I’m not over it either,” Jack whispers, and Bitty moves in a little, not wanting to miss a word.  “I’m--I’m not over you, either.”

Kent leans forward and Bitty thinks that they really should have discussed this in advance and he drags Jack unceremoniously by the hand into their bedroom, leaving Kent improperly hosted (he doesn’t even have a drink, and their exit wasn’t exactly smooth.)

Once they’ve closed the door and Jack is blankly staring at him, this catches up with Bitty.

“Um, sorry,” he says, because apologizing seems to be the theme of the evening.  Except then Jack laughs at him, honestly laughs, and he knows that if nothing else, at least they’ll be OK.

“Well, Mr. Zimmermann, you don’t have to laugh at me,” he teases, embarrassed.

Jack just grabs his face and kisses him, which is much better than the laughing, even though the laughter interrupted by the mmph is almost certainly audible from outside their room.

They pull apart and Bitty blurts out, quietly but insistently, “You know he was going to kiss you.”

“Yeah,” Jack sighs.

“And you were going to let him?”

“I was caught up,” Jack admits.  His hands have moved to Bitty’s neck and his waist and now it’s hard to concentrate, so he knows what Jack means, of course he does.

“I think I might be OK with that,” Bitty confesses.  It’s easier somehow, in the mostly dark room, close enough to Jack that he can speak quietly, Jack’s hands grounding him.

Fairly, Jack points out, “That didn’t seem like being OK with it.”  Bitty can hear his grin without even looking for it; of course this moment is one that Jack Zimmermann decides is amusing somehow.

Bitty mock-shoves Jack’s chest and, still whispering, insists, “This is the kind of thing that people talk about first!”

Jack laughs.  “That’s fair.”

“Thank you.”  Bitty keeps his hand on Jack’s chest, because it’s nice there, and moves the other over his lower back to the curve of his ass.

“Seriously?” Jack asks, but he doesn’t seem upset at all, fighting a grin.

“Sorry, got caught up in the moment.”

“I’m never going to live this down, am I?” Jack says, the question not even seemingly directed at Bitty.  “But--” Bitty snorts and squeezes his hand at this, and Jack rolls his eyes.  “ _But_ , you have to tell me what you want to happen today.”

“And you have to do the same,” Bitty replies, finally stepping back.  “This is a big deal, and it might mean something more to you than it does to me.”

“It seems like it means a lot to you too, Bits.  Something you’re not telling me?”

“Um, Kent and I get along really well?”

“You have a crush on him,” Jack accuses, forgetting to whisper.  There’s a soft laugh outside and Bitty glares at Jack.  “Sorry, but you do.”

“So do you,” Bitty mutters, pouting a little.

“I guess you could call it that?”

Bitty sighs.  “So what do we do?  This is uncharted territory for me.”

“Bittle.  Bitty.  Eric,” Jack cycles through his many names.  “What I have with you is enough.  It’s all I need, and if we could do this for the rest of our lives, I’d be happy the whole time.”  Bitty doesn’t tell him that there’s no way he can know that for sure, and not even just because he’s too choked up to speak.

“Me too,” he finally manages.

“So this--and we both know what’s starting here--doesn’t have to happen at all.  It can happen once, or occasionally, or never, and I’ll be happy.  But yes, I do want it.  I know we’re risking a lot, so if you’re even slightly uncomfortable, please say no.”

“I don’t want to,” Bitty confesses.  “I want this too.  I want this for you, because I know how much you need a better relationship with Kent.  But I want this for me, because I want to be a part of it, and because yeah, I like him too.”

“Just today?” Jack asks, still looking like he can’t wrap his head around the fact that Bitty said yes.

“I don’t know.”

“We have to have all the facts, Bittle,” Jack says.

“Please don’t captain voice me.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re right, though.  But can we just say . . . just today for now, and negotiate more later?”

“Yes,” Kent says from outside, where he definitely heard even the parts they were trying to keep secret.  Jack and Bitty turn impressively matching shades of red, but Jack has enough composure to open the door.  Kent’s standing there with a glass of water, like he tried to ignore them by busying himself, and then gave up and completely eavesdropped.  Considering the subject matter and the way in which the conversation was started in the first place, Bitty can’t find it in himself to be too mad.  He grabs the water and puts it on a dresser and Jack gets Kent by the wrist and pulls him into the room, their room, and everything feels a thousand times more real.

Bitty does not know how to start this, which is completely unsurprising, but Jack does, which is shocking.  He remains more than politely close to Kent, but drags Bitty over and wraps him in a completely company-inappropriate embrace, kissing him deeply and making him gasp.  Kent hesitantly presses himself against Jack, seeming also like this isn’t his first time in a multiple partner scenario, and Jack keeps him there with a hand reaching back.  Kent kisses his neck, immediately reaching a spot that drives Jack crazy, one that took Bitty months to find, and he remembers just how much history there is between Jack and Kent.

It’s Bitty who pulls away first, because he wants to change things up.  He expects Jack and Kent to complete their interrupted kiss from earlier, but they just exchange a heated look and Jack nods and Kent goes for Bitty.  Bitty, for all that he agreed to this, is stunned.  Kent is a really great kisser, a little more immediately sensual than Jack, less soft and sweet.  Presumably, he’s more practiced since he and Jack were last together, and Bitty is suddenly excited to see Jack’s response to this fact, so he pulls back, despite not completely wanting to.  Kent smiles and licks his lips, which is stupidly hot, enough that Bitty feels guilty for leaving Jack out of this moment.  Until he looks up and sees exactly what he himself is feeling written all over Jack’s face as well.

That’s when Jack seems unable to resist grabbing Kent by the front of his shirt and bringing their mouths together.  Bitty might be completely projecting when, after a few moments, he sees a flash of surprise in the raise of Jack’s eyebrows, but he doesn’t think so.  Jack brings his arms fully around Kent’s shoulders in a way that arouses that third wheel feeling again, for a second, but then suddenly seems much more like a need for support than anything else, as Kent adjusts his stance in what appears to be a move meant to take the extra weight Jack is leaning on him.  Bitty almost laughs.  This time it’s Kent who’s making him still feel welcome, using the hand not on Jack’s hip to keep Bitty pulled in close to their sides, able to feel the shifting of their muscles.  It’s incredible.

When they part, Kent drops into the middle of their bed like he owns the place, like it doesn’t matter that they only recently agreed to this.  But Bitty and Jack just look at each other and then get on either side of him, rising to their knees to kiss over Kent as he gets a hand on each of their backs, so maybe it doesn’t matter, after all.

\---

The next day, they wake up considerably less awkwardly than anticipated.  Kent stays for breakfast and then goes home, not before Jack awkwardly goes after him to kiss him goodbye and Bitty feels a strange lack of worry.  Something about it is more than a “goodbye for now” kiss; there’s a slowness and an impression of closure on both their parts.  Bitty doesn’t think that this is going to happen again, and imagines a future where Jack and Kent are OK around each other, and a present where Bitty and Jack are excellent.

Really, it would have almost certainly worked out like that without the sex, but Bitty finds it hard to complain about that.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU TO MY AMAZING BETA JESSICA. She isn't in this fandom and she still read all of this and made it so much better and saved me from lazy writing.
> 
> Confession: I don't love Zimbits in the same way that most people seem to. I don't know how to describe this well, but mostly I think their problems and obstacles are too frequently overlooked, especially Jack's. So, I tried to write a fic that dealt with a lot of the things that I wanted to see addressed, and ended up writing a threesome fic. Oops?
> 
> THAT SAID. If you know of any good Zimbits fics where they work through their problems, please rec them to me!
> 
> Find me on tumblr as [loveandallthat](http://loveandallthat.tumblr.com/)! I take prompts for tons of fandoms and pairings and post lame things all the time.
> 
> I appreciate all comments, including criticism. Seriously.


End file.
